Chapter - Imperial Blood
by, 4-16-12 at 7:22 PM (359 Views)
The Emperor walked towards the bed. He could not believe his eyes but imagined why his son was in that state, a certain result of their previous encounter. What had happened to the Empress, on the other hand, was a complete mystery to Lord Ilorsil.
“Dad,” said Myrelle as she ran towards her father. As soon as she reached him, the Princess of Light hugged her father and began weeping. “Mother… and…. and Sef… they’re… I tried…” but she was unable to continue speaking; all that crying had already begun to close her throat, impeding the words from coming out. The Emperor held her daughter closer to him with one hand and caressed her beautiful golden hair with the other one.
He saw As̆elisse, standing beside the bed as well. It was clear by the expression of her face and the colour of her eyes that she had also been crying. She probably stopped it when the Emperor came into the room. She hated to have her father, or anyone for the matter, watch her crying.
“As̆, do you know what happened?” Regelial asked his daughter in a tone of both impression and frustration. The Warrior Princess simply shook her head.
“They were brought here right after they crashed, unconscious. We were informed about the situation and rushed here as fast as we could.” The Princess’ voice was weakening. She was using all her strength to suppress her feelings. “Myrelle tried to heal them, but they haven’t moved since they were brought here” she said, bringing her right hand to her mouth. “We don’t know what else to do.”
Regelial’s eyes turned to the bed-ridden Empress and his son. He gently kissed Myrelle on the forehead. “As̆, please take your sister to her room. Give the order that I’m not to be bothered. Only Marasia may come inside. Asmerién will take care of any unexpected inconveniences that may arise.” He got close to Myrelle’s right ear and whispered to her. “You’ve done everything you could. I’ll take care of it from now on. Thank you.” The Emperor raised his head and looked at As̆. “Please” was everything he said before As̆ grabbed her sister and walked towards the door. The Princess then turned to her father.
“Will you be alright?”
“Don’t worry, go” replied His Majesty. Princess As̆ opened the left door and, as she was about to cross it, she telepathically received a message from her dad. Whatever happens, whatever you listen or see, no matter how worried you are, don’t come in here, he told her. She gave no reply, but gently closed the door behind them.
Regelial heard the clicking noise made by the door and knew he was completely alone. He slowly moved towards his wife. How can it be that even Myrelle, who possesses the strongest healing powers, was unable to help you? he thought as he reached the bed, sighing as he placed his left hand over her forehead. If I’m to do something, I need to know what happened. He closed his eyes and began concentrating. His hair raised itself slowly, a signal that he was gathering a big amount of energy. “Lesaltin-saínin esmel'mœ¨ˇ” he whispered, travelling to that fateful moment.
Lord Ilorsil could see his wife, dashing through the Orenöbale. The Sun was still out, meaning there was a lot of time to go before she would find Sefiren. “This is not what I want to see.”His eyes glowed. Once the glow was over he could see that night had already fallen. He was suspended in the air. He saw Lady Ysara, flying towards a dazzling light. “Almost there”, and his eyes glowed once again. He had advanced a little bit this time, yet the environment was completely different than the one he had been at. The air was heavy. The temperature had risen. Even when he was journeying through Empress Ysara’s memories, Regelial was feeling the pressure that Sefiren’s energy was applying. He could even feel his son’s enormous powers growing every passing second. He turned around; the sight before him was one of the most impressive, yet horrifying, scenes he’d witnessed in many years. His son was irradiating raw energy, his brown hair glowing.
He saw the Empress crawl to his son and draw the Absorption Circle on his neck. “I-I can’t believe this! I refuse to! It’s nonsense! This can’t be happening! It’s impossible! He’s far too young!” the Emperor began shouting, even though he knew it would have no effect. He had completely lost that calmness which characterized him. His anger grew to unimaginable heights, and he to, began glowing. His long hair rose as he gathered energy, glowing with a fiercer intensity, and his emerald eyes changed to a lighter, fiercer green; his fists were closed, and, as he tightened his grip, blood was drawn from both his hands. “I will not! I will not allow this! It is unacceptable!” he shouted once again. He could feel his energy reaching its peak. It wouldn’t be long now. The Empress had begun drawing blood from his son. Her crimson eyes were looking directly into her husband’s. “The seal cannot be broken yet!”
“Regelial, get ahold of yourself!” he heard Ysara shout. Hearing her voice allowed him to gain a hold of himself. His golden aura dissipated, his eyes returned to their emerald colour, and his hair returned to its normal position.
“Ysara!” he exclaimed, and then everything went blank. Seconds later he was back in his room. He was right beside the bed; everything was the same, except for himself. He was pale and sweating. What was that? He thought.
“Uncle? Uncle are you okay?” the Seraf asked. Lord Ilorsil opened his eyes. He was lying on the floor, his head lying on his niece’s soft hands, her red eyes looking at him. “Uncle, what happened? The entire palace was shaking. I came here as fast as I could and I found you on the floor. You… You entered her memories, didn’t you?”
The Emperor slowly stood up. “Yes, yes.” He replied, “I know the risks very well” he said, since he had seen his niece open her mouth, as if to reproach his recent action. “But now at least I know…” but he didn’t finish his last sentence. The images of what he had seen were still on his mind. He was unable to shake them off. I know the threat that he poses to us all in his current state. I’ll have to be faster than I had initially thought; otherwise we’ll all be in grave danger. Regelial was lost in thought. His niece stared at him, waiting for her uncle to conclude his last statement. However, it was evident to the young Seraf that the Emperor had completely forgotten about her presence.
“Uncle! You didn’t finish your last sentence. What is it that you know?”
“What? Oh right, sorry Marasia,” said the Emperor as he came back from his trance. “Now I know what happened, and know what to do.” He
extended his right hand and, in a flash of golden light, a sword materialised in his hand. Marasia recognised instantly the red jewel embedded in the heavily ornamented golden hilt, the extremely long and equally coloured blade, and the runes inscribed on both of its sides; it was the Emperor’s weapon, the Holy Sword Ascaír; ancient, sturdy, and unyielding; said to be capable of cutting through any existing material. Marasia had actually only seen Lord Ilorsil wield the sword once, when she had finished her training at the Academy. The Emperor awarded her with a one-on-one match; needless to say she lost. His ability with the sword was legendary by now. There were plenty a story about battles the Emperor had won in the blink of an eye using only Ascaír. It was supposed that he only used it either on really special occasions, or on battles and duels that were deemed worthy of the sword.
“Does it impress you to see Ascaír again?” asked the Emperor, to which the Magister only nodded. “I thought so,” said the Emperor as he approached his son. He was pale. He touched his cheek. It was extremely cold. “Apparently, your aunt drank most of Sefiren’s blood. Whatever drove her to do that, I do not know” lied Lord Regelial. In his mind, revealing the whole truth right now would be catastrophic, so he played a little with the facts. “I’m amazed he isn’t dead yet.”
“So what do you need me for?”
“Ysara will be fine, she needs to rest. She absorbed more energy than she can handle at once, but she’s slowly releasing it even as we speak. She’ll wake up once her energy returns to the levels her body is accustomed to. Sefiren, on the other hand, needs a blood transfusion urgently.”
“I still don’t understand my roll in this sir. If my cousin requires a blood transfusion, shouldn’t we take him to the military hospital?”
“My dear Marasia, you are the single most important person standing in this room right now. Please tell me the only natural limitation for the use of any healing technique.”
“No one, under any circumstance, no matter how powerful can…” she stopped cold. She now understood his uncle’s plan. “Uncle no! You can’t do that! You’ll kill yourself!” shouted the amber-eyed girl to the Emperor. Her fear and desperation were made clear in her voice’s tone.
“You didn’t finish.”
“You didn’t finish,” repeated Regelial.
“No one can heal any fatal wounds inflicted, either by himself or another, unto his own or another’s body,” recited Marasia, though it was difficult for her to pronounce the words correctly. She was simply shocked by her uncle’s plan. “Except in the case of self-sacrifice where one life is exchanged for another.”
“Indeed. You see, Sefiren has lost so much blood he’s dying. We need to replenish it, but not with any type of blood. He needs blood taken directly from the heart, right where it has not yet been corrupted. Normally, we would need a big amount to cover for his loss. Instead, we’ll use mine, of which a few drops will suffice.”
“Surely you don’t mean…”
“Now listen, and listen carefully. I need you to pierce my heart with Ascaír,” he said as he pointed the sword’s hilt towards the Seraf. “The blade will be stained with my blood, which you will then use to pierce my son’s heart.”
“I-I-I won’t! You will die! You will both die! There has to be another way!”
“Marasia, I need to know I can trust you. I know that neither Myrelle nor As̆ can do this, but you can. I need to have your word. Don’t worry about me; I’ll be fine, as will my son.”
“How can you even say that?!”
“Because I know what I’m doing.”
“Trust me!” shouted the Emperor like the girl had never before heard and was enough to make her comply.
“A-Alright, you have my word as High Seraf-Magister, Your Majesty.”
“So, after you’ve taken the sword from my chest, you’ll head over to where Sefiren is. You will then make a vertical cut across his chest. After doing that, pierce the heart with the blade. If everything goes as planned, my blood will merge with his, healing the wound you’ll inflict on his heart and replenishing his energy and blood levels. Then simply cast Aldel to mend his chest. Understood?” Marasia nodded. Regelial smiled, “Brilliant as always, oh, and one more thing, you have less than one minute to finish the process, otherwise my blood will dry and lose all its properties.” The Emperor grabbed the blade and pointed it at his chest while his eyes acquired that fierce colour that characterised the Emperor in dire situations.
“And you? What will happen to you while I’m doing all this?”
“Concentrate on your task.”
He took a deep breath and extended his arms. Marasia’s hands were shaking uncontrollably; she felt the blade was heavier and her will, crumbling. What if this failed? There had to be another way. This was far too dangerous. Then again, she couldn’t afford to succumb to pressure and doubts. She had to let go of her fear and hesitation. It was her duty.
In a brief moment of resolution, the Seraf heeded the Emperor’s command. With a strong thrust, she drove the blade into him until the blood-stained tip came out from his back. The pain was immeasurable. Regelial groaned as Marasia took Ascaír out of his body. Streams of blood were falling from his chest, staining his white robes in crimson. Marasia was in shock. The Emperor was still conscious. His whole body was trembling, and breathing was almost impossible for him. “H-Hu-Hurry”.
The Seraf did as told. She took a firm grasp of the sword’s hilt. While sure that she would inevitably collapse from all the pressure and stress, she kept repeating to herself she could not; no, she would not fail His Majesty.
Marasia walked towards Sefiren. She pointed the sword at his cousin and quickly cut through his chest, not even bothering to remove the clothes in the process. The heart was barely beating. With one swift movement, Marasia stabbed his cousin in the heart. She had to make sure that the entire blade went in. His cousin violently convulsed as his heart stabilised. She removed the blade, and murmured some words that enveloped the whole room into a warm white light. Marasia collapsed. Sefiren was now breathing normally, and his conduct resembled that of a sleeping baby, gentle and calm. Cold sweat was running down the Seraf’s forehead and cheeks. The process had totally spent her.
“Mission accomplished, Marasia.” She heard her uncle say. “Perfect
execution, as expected from you.”
“Weren’t you …? How did…?”
“I said I knew what I was doing.”
“But how could you do it? Not even Myrelle could have healed you so fast.”
“We must never reveal all our secrets.” The Emperor smiled, “Let me tell you a story while we both recover. Do you believe in myths and legends Marasia?”
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